#tw suicice
No paro de llorar, simplemente quiero desaparecer dejando todo atrás, cada día me cuesta seguir viviendo más y más, caigo en un colapso al cual no le veo un final, pienso en el suicidio desde hace años, me gustaría morir de una vez , por favor suplico mi muerte , estoy harto de llorar noche tras noche preguntándome lo que hago mal, por qué mi esfuerzo es nulo?, ayuda me desgarra el alma seguir adelante, temo y anhelo el día que decida ponerle fin a lo que empezó como un malestar emocional y termino como crisis sentimental.
Walking_disaster
Morir, morir, morir…
La misma palabra retumba en mi, observando la libertad pero encandedadola más y más, quiero llorar, gritar, disfrutar, pero me venció, por más que odie perder simplemente cai, en abismo infernal, sin ser alguien especial como solían decir, solo fui mal hijo, sobrino, nieto, novio, amigo, solamente ocasionó un mal, podrá ser la decepción acompañado de depresión, no lo soportó más, quiero morir y ya.
Cada noche de desvelo me acaba más, absorbe lo que queda de mi, con gusto daría mi vida por hacer un bien, pero ni eso logró hacer bien, joder!! Ya no puedo más, ayuda, por favor, quiero salir pero las mismas personas que me ayudaron a avanzar, me hundieron más
Walking_disaster
Dear Diary,
I feel like I was born to be hated.
Dear ▇▇▇,
You were so kind before they dragged you to hell.
Dear Diary,
I don’t want to die but I need this to end.
Dear ▇▇▇,
You have no idea how many nights I’ve spent crying over you. We used to talk everyday but now I can barely remember what your voice sounds like, you don’t answer my texts either. You only ever speak to me when you need to vent, I feel so used. That doesn’t matter, I still love you even if it’s wrong ❦
Dear Diary,
Why do people forget about me so fast?
Dear Diary,
I don’t care about anything anymore. I’ve buried my dreams so deep within myself no amount of self harm could ever carve them out.
Dear Diary,
I don’t think I was meant to live.
Dear Diary,
Why do I feel so much?
Dear Diary,
Living with memory loss is hard, I can’t reminisce about my childhood, I can hardly experience nostalgia. At least I get to make new, happy memories everyday. That’s the only thing that makes me happy and that’s enough for me.
Dear Diary,
She called me an angel with slit wrists.
Dear ▇▇▇,
The way you give me attention and affection so unpredictably makes me miss you even more. Everytime I see your name pop up on my screen I immediately forget how miserable I feel and become even more desperate for you. Can you feel it too, the kind of pain made out of real love?
Dear Diary,
I exist to be consumed by others, I live only to be used.
Dear Diary,
I find it so funny when people tell me “it’s all in your head” , uh ya that’s kind of the problem.
Dear Diary,
You know those times when there’s a really significant event in your life and so your abuser reaches out to you but you have to be nice to protect yourself?
Dear Diary,
I am greatful for my depression. If I hadn’t experienced such awful things in life then I would never know true happiness.
Dear Diary,
Apparently I’m too young to know abuse.
Dear Diary,
I was stupid for believing I could accomplish anything, my pathetic life isn’t heading anywhere.
Dear ▇▇▇,
I hate you for making me miss you so much. Your hurtful words chip away at my soul yet I still think about you everyday at least a thousand times or more. Use me, abuse me I still miss you. You say you love me the most but you treat me like I’m never there. I crave you, i’ll do for your attention.
